


By Any Other Name

by Aintzane411



Category: Static Shock
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Fluff, M/M, Slow Burn, Trans Male Character, pretty much just pure fluff, richie is trans and adorable, virgil is a great friend
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-27
Updated: 2015-09-27
Packaged: 2018-04-23 16:50:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,086
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4884352
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aintzane411/pseuds/Aintzane411
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Emily Foley may not know what his name is, but it sure as hell isn't Emily.</p>
<p>or the one where Richie is a closeted trans guy and Virgil helps him become his true self. Also they go to prom. Soulmate AU based on saying each other's name for the first time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	By Any Other Name

**Author's Note:**

> Okay so I've been working on this for months and it ended up really long but I'm so excited for it oh gosh. I started with the soulmate idea, then added in the trans plotline, and that kinda took over, so the soulmate stuff is mostly in the beginning and end. Hope you like it!!

He hated his job at the local coffee shop. He hated the customers, he hated his boss, and he hated the way that the milk steamer always fogged up his glasses any time he made a hot drink. But most of all, he hated the way some customers insisted on saying his name.

“And can I get your name for the order?” he asked a boy around his age, Sharpie poised to write the name on the cup.

“Nathan,” said the boy.

He jotted the name down and passed the cup along the line. “All right, Nathan, that’ll be up for you in just a minute.”

Glancing down briefly at his name tag, Nathan’s eyes had a glint in them. “Thanks, Emily,” he said, and hesitated a moment before subtly deflating and walking away.

Emily closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths. He struggled to remind himself that his name was not actually Emily. He used male pronouns, and he was a boy, no matter how feminine his face was or the fact that he had boobs. Some guys have boobs. Didn’t mean he was a girl.

With a sigh, he opened his eyes and plastered a smile on his face, counting the seconds until his shift was over. Hopefully, there wouldn’t be any more soulmate-seekers today. But, knowing his luck, that wouldn’t be the case. It made sense, really. A barista at a coffee shop where they were required to repeat the customer’s name to ensure accuracy? No shit people would read the workers’ nametags out loud, wishing with all their being that they would feel the tug that soulmates felt once they said each other’s names.

By the time Emily’s shift ended, he was physically and mentally exhausted. As he punched out and hung his apron up, his boss came over.

“Hey, Emily,” he said, leaning against the wall. “I was just wondering if you were free on Friday night. Maybe we could hit the club, have a drink or two. What do you say?”

Emily rolled his eyes and turned away to grab his bag. “I’m not even twenty-one yet, Jesse,” he said, trying to keep the annoyance out of his voice. “So, thanks but no thanks.”

“Aw, c’mon!” Jesse put a hand on his shoulder and turned him back around. “Pretty girl like you is bound to have a fake ID, right?”

“Jesse, I–”

“Fine, we’ll go see a movie,” he insisted as Emily pushed past him towards the door. “Or, shit, dinner? How about that?”

Emily tuned out his boss and walked faster, his jaw clenching.

“What the fuck, Emily? Fucking bitch!”

Breath stuck in his throat, Emily let the door slam behind him and jogged towards the bus stop at the corner, his hands tightly gripping the straps of his backpack. He hated his job.

* * *

At school the next day, Emily was immediately ambushed by Virgil, who was waiting for him by his locker.

“Emily!” Virgil cried, causing Emily to wince slightly. He knew he should tell Virgil the truth. They had been friends for years now, there’s no way that Virgil wouldn’t him. But, of course, there was always a chance. So Emily stayed quiet.

“What’s up, Virg?” he asked, entering his combination and opening his locker.

“Are we still on for tonight?”

“Tonight?”

“Yeah, remember the new season of Dead End starts tonight.” Virgil elbowed him playfully. “C’mon, there’s no way you forgot! You still up for coming to my place to watch it?”

“Oh, yeah, totally!” Emily said enthusiastically. He grabbed his books and shut his locker. “Just slipped my mind, I guess, but I’ll definitely be there.”

Their conversation was cut short by the ringing of the bell, forcing them to head their separate ways. Emily made his way to his first period class and sat in his usual seat, letting his mind wander as his biology teacher began to take roll. He really had forgotten about going over to Virgil’s house, which was surprising. He didn’t forget things often, let alone anything involving his best friend. It had been a rough shift at work the day before, however, and he figured that the stress of constantly being misgendered was just getting to him.

“Emily!”

Emily snapped his head up, focusing on the teacher, who was looking at him impatiently, her pencil tapping her clipboard. “Sorry,” he said. “Here.”

Ms. Bell pressed her lips together into a thin line before marking him present and moving down the list. Emily sighed and rubbed his forehead, where a headache was quickly forming. First period had barely begun and he could already tell it was going to be a long day.

“All right, class,” Ms. Bell said, getting the lesson started. “This morning we’re going to begin with an activity, so if I could have all the girls on this side of the room and the boys on the other.”

His heart dropping to his stomach, Emily reached his hand into his pocket, wrapping his fingers around a small piece of paper. He didn’t pull it out, because he knew what it said: _“He/him/his.”_ As he stood and walked towards the other girls in his class, he gently rubbed the paper, using it as a physical reminder of who he was.

Today was going to be a really long day.

* * *

After school, the two boys met by Emily’s locker again to walk to Virgil’s house together. As they walked through the hallways, they passed Daisy and Frieda, who were standing close together and giggling. They didn’t notice the boys as they walked past, and Daisy leaned forward to kiss Frieda, who blushed and ran a hand through her hair.

The girls were soulmates, and Emily was insanely jealous. When Daisy came to Dakota Union High, it was only natural for Virgil to take her to meet Frieda. As soon as they introduced themselves, they froze, and everyone knew exactly what had happened. It was okay, though. The girls still spent time with Emily and Virgil, and didn’t let their relationship get in the way of the friendship between all four of them.

The walk to Virgil’s house was quiet, as Virgil had picked up on the fact that Emily didn’t seem to be in a talking mood. When they arrived, they dropped their bags at the door and raided the kitchen for snacks before heading up to Virgil’s room to wait for the episode to start, ignoring Sharon’s voice jokingly telling them to keep the door open.

“So…” Virgil tried to fill the silence as he opened a bag of chips for the two to share. “We’ve got an hour or so till the episode; what are you up for? Video games? Cartoons? Just name it!”

Emily sighed and flopped facedown on the bed. “How about we just chill for a bit? I’m exhausted.”

“Sure, no problem.” Virgil laid down next to him, occasionally reaching into the bag of chips resting on his stomach. “You okay? You seem kind of out of it today.”

“Yeah, I’m fine.”

Virgil raised an eyebrow. “Sure doesn’t look like it. This is definitely not how Miss Emily Foley acts when she’s fine. Trust me, I know.”

“I’m fine, Virgil,” Emily said simply. “Besides, I should be asking you that. I saw how you were looking at Daisy as we passed her and Frieda.”

Virgil closed his eyes and made a face. “Was it that obvious? Man, I was trying to be cool about it.”

“Plain as day, V-man,” Emily jeered as he sat up and grabbed a handful of chips. “I mean, I can’t blame you. If I were into girls, I’d probably be in the same position as you. She’s pretty cool, isn’t she?”

“She’s so great, Emily!” Virgil moaned and covered his face. “I keep trying to let this stupid crush go, but I can’t! I know I don’t have a chance with her, but man do I wish I did.”

Emily shrugged. “Maybe they’ll break up,” he said around a mouthful of chips. “Soulmates don’t always work out, you know. There’s no telling what’ll happen.”

“I know, but I just want Daisy to be happy. And she sure as hell is happy with Frieda.” Virgil sighed and sent Emily a glance. “C’mon, you’re the girl here; you’re supposed to be the one who’s all sappy about soulmates. How come I never hear you whining about it?”

“Because I don’t really care I guess. I mean, sure, it’d be great to have a soulmate, but who knows if I’ll ever actually meet them. Do you know how many people are in this world, Virgil? A butt-ton, that’s how many. People who actually meet their soulmates are lucky. More lucky than I am.”

Virgil hummed. “Never pegged you for one to not care about soulmates. It seems like that’s all that girls can focus on nowadays, doesn’t it?”

Emily rolled his eyes. “Tell that to the guy who was just lamenting about his unrequited love.” He pretended to swoon dramatically and lowered his voice to mimic Virgil. “Oh, no, my high school sweetheart is in a lesbian relationship with one of my close friends and I’ll never get to date her, woe is me!”

He was cut off by Virgil throwing a pillow at his head. “Excuse you, I do not swoon! What do you take me for, an eighteenth-century housewife?”

“I mean, if the corset fits.”

The two were quickly engaged in an all-out pillow fight, with feathers and chips scattered everywhere. By the time they collapsed to the floor, leaning against the bed, Emily could hardly remember why he was so upset earlier.

“Jeez, Emily,” huffed Virgil. “You fight pretty good for a girl.”

Oh, yeah. Great. The whole gender thing, plus an insult. Emily tossed his pillow aside and glared at Virgil. “And what the fuck is that supposed to mean?” he scoffed. “I’m a fucking superhero, just like you, and you’re surprised that I fight well?”

Virgil’s eyes widened and he held up his hands. “Shit, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean for it to come out that way. I was just teasing, Emily, I swear.”

“What the fuck, Virgil? I thought you knew better than to say misogynistic shit like that.” Emily stood and grabbed his hoodie. “I think I’m gonna go home. Not in the mood for Dead End.” He turned to leave, but Virgil scrambled up and grabbed his arm.

“Emily, I’m sorry,” he said sincerely. “I honestly don’t know why that popped out. I know I used to say stuff like that a few years ago, but I’ve been trying to stop. Of course you’re a good fighter. We’re partners-in-crime, and I shouldn’t have said that to you.”

Emily tried to keep himself from pouting, but didn’t succeed. “Damn right you shouldn’t have,” he said, crossing his arms.

“I really am sorry, Emily.”

Emily looked at Virgil, who looked absolutely pitiful. There was genuine shame etched all over his face. Emily rolled his eyes and smiled. “Whatever. Just don’t ever call me a girl again, or I’ll–” He cut himself off, realizing what he said.

Virgil’s brow furrowed. “Wait, what?”

_Shit, shit, shit._ Emily rushed to backtrack and tried to blow it off with a wave of his hand. “You know what I mean. The whole ‘fight like a girl thing,’ is demeaning and sexist and shit.”

“That’s… not what you said,” Virgil said. “You said to not call you a girl. Like at all.”

Emily felt his heart pounding. “Slip of the tongue, is all.” He felt tears welling up in his eyes against his will and cursed silently. This wasn’t going well. Why couldn’t he calm down? He had let things slip before and managed to keep it together, but apparently not this time.

Virgil’s eyes widened as tears began to fall down Emily’s face. He guided them both back to the bed, where Emily sat down and completely broke down in tears. Baffled, Virgil let Emily cry into his shoulder as he stroked his hair and whispered soothing things.

Once Emily calmed down a bit, they were both quiet for a minute before Virgil spoke. “Emily? You know you can talk to me about anything, right?”

Emily’s breath caught in his throat and he nodded, not trusting himself to speak. He face was hidden from Virgil’s view as he was still leaning on his shoulder.

“What did you mean when you said to not call you a girl? Is that what made you upset?”

Squeezing his eyes shut, Emily nodded again. Virgil gently pulled away so he could look at Emily.

“C’mon, talk to me, Emily.”

“P-please don’t call me that.” Emily wiped his eyes and looked at the floor. “I don’t like it.”

Virgil nodded. “I can do that. What would you like me to call you?”

He shook his head. “I haven’t figured it out yet. But please stop calling me Emily.”

“Of course. I’ll do whatever you need,” Virgil insisted. He reached out and gently took his friend’s shaking hands. “What’s going on? I’m worried about you. This seems like something really big if it’s got you this upset.”

The blond took a deep breath and tried to calm his racing heartbeat. “I’m… I’m not a girl,” he said, finally raising his eyes to look at Virgil. “I’m a boy. I always have been, but I haven’t told anyone… Except you.” Tears began to fall once more, and he let out a sob.

Virgil squeezed his hands briefly before pulling him into a huge hug. He felt his best friend relax in his arms as they held tightly to each other. “Oh, friend,” he said warmly, trying to find a replacement to using a name. “It’s okay. Take a deep breath, it’ll be okay.” He pulled away and rested his hands solidly on the blond’s shoulders. “Thank you for telling me,” he said, reaching up to wipe the tears from his pale cheeks. “What pronouns do you want me to use for you?”

“He, him, and his.” The response was said in a shaky voice. “And I haven’t picked a name yet, but I guess you can call me Em for now.”

“Well, I guess that’s next on the list isn’t it, Em?” Virgil asked with a small smile. “We’ve gotta find you the perfect name.”

* * *

“Virgil, this is embarrassing,” Em said under his breath. They were at a bookstore a week later, looking, of all places, in the baby name section. “C’mon, let’s just get out of here. There’s plenty of websites I can use, I don’t need a book.” He tried to tug Virgil away from the section.

“But Em!” cried Virgil, pulling his arm away from the other’s grasp. “You can’t highlight a website, or make notes or dog-ear the pages.”

Em rolled his eyes and huffed. “Fine, then be quick about it! People are going to think that we’re teenage parents or something!”

“Worst case scenario,” Virgil said, finally grabbing a book, “just pretend you’re a writer. Writers are always looking for names for their characters.”

The two quickly checked out and Virgil set about flipping through pages immediately as they started their walk home. “Okay, let’s see here. How about Daniel?”

“Nah.”

“Anthony?”

Em shook his head, frowning.

“Any idea what kind of name you’re looking for?” asked Virgil. “Like, do you want to keep your initials? Something that sounds like your deadname? An anagram of the letters? Or just ditch the deadname entirely and pick something new?”

Em hummed, thinking. “Something new, I think. Even just this nickname is getting on my nerves.”

“All right, that rules out Emery and all other similar names. What about your initials?”

“Don’t care.”

“Okay, what about Aaron?”

“Like I’m really gonna let myself be called Ay-ay-ron.”

“Jeez, just a suggestion!”

* * *

“Virgil, I think I ordered the wrong size.”

“Dude, they said it was going to be tight. That’s the whole point of a binder, y’know.”

Em rolled his eyes as he struggled to get the binder on. He looked in the mirror, twisting around to try and see where he was stuck. “This isn’t working,” he called to Virgil, who was currently holed up in his closet to give Em some privacy. “I’m sending it back.”

“C’mon, you barely gave it a shot!” Virgil insisted, his voice muffled by the closet doors. “You’ve gotta get it all the way on at least once so we can see how it looks. We’ve waited weeks for it, you can’t give up now!”

After ten more minutes of struggling and wriggling and tugging, Em finally had the garment on properly. He pulled on his white t-shirt and looked in the mirror. His jaw dropped open and he let out a soft gasp. “Virgil,” he said quietly. “Virgil, come look.”

Em barely even noticed Virgil coming to stand beside him. It wasn’t until Virgil put an arm around his shoulder that he was able to tear his gaze away from the reflection. The boys grinned at each other, and Em had tears in his eyes that Virgil reached out and gently wiped away before they turned back to the mirror.

“I’m… I look…” Em struggled to find words.

“Handsome,” Virgil supplied. “And freaking hot, to boot. Just wait till we get you some proper clothes, Em. You’re gonna be the hottest boy ever if I have anything to say about it.”

* * *

“Oliver.”

“Nah.”

“Noah.”

“Too religious.”

“Keenan.”

“Like Keenan and Kel? I’d never live up to the namesake.”

“Joshua.”

“Hmm. Maybe. Highlight it.”

“Vincent.”

“Ugh.”

“Xander.”

“Ooh. Trendy. Maybe.”

“Tadashi.”

“HOW DARE YOU.”

* * *

“This is weird, Virgil.”

“Okay, I’ll give you that one. It’s kind of weird.”

Em was at Virgil’s house, yet again, staring at an unopened box that sat on the bed between them. They both knew what was inside, and Em wasn’t ready to open it yet. For the past few weeks, Virgil had been amazing, offering his help whenever Em needed it. They had been actively looking for a name, plus Virgil had helped him look for a binder and let Em use his address to order the packages, just in case Em’s parents found them.

“Just open it, dude,” Virgil insisted. “I mean, it’s not like I haven’t seen one before.”

Em glared at him. “Yes, but this one is mine and you haven’t seen mine before.”

Virgil smirked and held up his hands in mock surrender. “I mean that’s true, yes. If it’s worrying you so much, go open it in the bathroom then come back when you’re done.”

With a huff, Em grabbed the package and a pair of scissors and locked himself in the bathroom. He cut open the packing tape and reached inside to pull out a realistic-looking packer. Just looking at the fake penis made his face flush in embarrassment. This was so weird, and he was glad that Virgil wasn’t here to make fun of him.

He set the packer on the counter and fished around in the box until he pulled out the harness that came with it. It was a complicated-looking bundle of straps, and it took him a few minutes to figure out how to put it on. He tucked the packer inside his underwear and pulled his pants up.

The change in the mirror wasn’t nearly as dramatic as when he put on his binder for the first time. You could see a slight bulge, but it looked completely normal. The only thing that was different was that Em knew it was there and could feel his confidence building, ever so slightly. He was still blushing, however, and splashed some water on his face to try and get the color to go away before going back to Virgil’s room.

“You’re blushing,” Virgil said matter-of-factly, causing Em’s cheeks to redden even more.

“Shut up.”

“So, how’s it feel?”

“Like there’s a fake dick stuffed in my underwear,” Em joked as he flopped on the bed next to Virgil.

“That’s it?” Virgil asked, propping himself up on one elbow. “No dramatic rush of emotion? No tears were shed? No surge of happiness from your head to your toes?”

Em shrugged. “I guess a little, yeah. It’s more subtle, though. Just knowing that it’s there. Like, if someone were to grab me there it would feel right. If that makes sense.”

“Not really,” Virgil admitted, “But hey, if it makes you feel good then who am I to say anything.”

“So what next? I’ve got a binder, a dick, and one person who knows who I really am. Still working on a name, but that’ll come in time.”

“Well, actually,” Virgil said mischievously, “I had an idea about that.”

Em groaned. “This doesn’t sound good at all.”

“No, no, listen!” Virgil insisted. “So prom is coming up, right?”

“I knew it. No good comes from any plan you say in that tone of voice.”

“Shut up! Just think, we can go out and get you a fancy outfit, take you to the tailor and everything, and you make your big debut at prom! You can do the whole bit where you come in half an hour late and everyone looks to you and you just say, ‘It is I! A handsome man ready to party!’ It’ll be great, Em!”

The two laughed at Virgil’s dramatic enactment, but Em shook his head. “No way. There are a number of things wrong with that.” He sat up and began holding up fingers. “First off, too expensive. I’m not about to pay ninety bucks for a silly night pretending I know how to dance.”

Virgil waved him off. “No need to pretend, dude, we all know you suck at dancing.”

Em glared at him and continued. “Second, I don’t even have a name yet. Everyone’s gonna ask what to call me and I won’t have an answer.”

“Prom isn’t for two months,” Virgil stated, “We’ll find your name by then.”

“Third, who goes to senior prom stag?”

“Go with me.”

“Fourth, I–” Em cut himself off. “Wait, what?”

Virgil shrugged. “Why not? Half the school thinks we’re banging anyway. And I already took my turn coming out. Everyone knows I’m pan, so it won’t be a big deal for me to be going to prom with a dude.”

Em found himself at a loss for words.

“And don’t worry about the ticket,” Virgil added, “I can help cover it.”

“Virgil, I couldn’t–”

“Sure you can. It’ll be fun, Em!” Virgil stuck out his lower lip and tried not to smile. “Please?”

Slowly, Em found himself smiling and nodding his head. “Fine. It’s a date.”

* * *

As time passed, Em was still no closer to finding a name. There were a few names that he was considering, but none really fit right. Every now and then he’d ask if Virgil would call him by a new name for a day or two, but end up going back to Em after a short time. To take his mind off of it, he focused more on helping Virgil with the prom plans.

They were currently sitting in the parking lot outside of the tux rental shop. Virgil was in the driver’s seat of his sister’s car, with Em hyperventilating in the passenger seat.

“I can’t do this, Virgil,” he said, trying to slow his breathing down. “It’s too soon. I can’t go into a Men’s Wearhouse looking like this.” He gestured down at his baggy jeans and t-shirt that hid his figure well, but made him look like he was swimming in fabric.

“It’s gonna be fine, dude,” Virgil insisted. “There’s no way you’re the first trans guy they’ve had in there.”

“What if nothing fits me? You’ve seen how most guys’ pants fit me, and how I can never find a button-up shirt that actually fits my hips.” Em leaned back and rested his head on the headrest, staring at the roof of the car.

“Listen,” Virgil said sternly. “We’re gonna go in there, and we’re both going to find the perfect prom suit. The tailors are professionals, and they won’t ask questions. I bet they’ve even had cis guys come in with wider hips and managed to fit them perfectly. So take a deep breath, okay? It’s gonna be fine.”

Em complied, and managed to take a few shaky breaths. He looked at Virgil and bit his lip. “You promise?”

“I promise.”

The two were soon inside the quiet store, where a woman greeted them with a smile and asked if they needed some help.

“Yeah, actually,” Virgil said. “We’re looking to rent some prom stuff.”

They were led to the back of the store, where there were mirrors and small pedestals for customers to stand on as their outfits were pinned to the right sizes. The woman pulled out a large catalogue and placed it on a nearby table. “What kind of outfits are you boys looking for?” she asked, not noticing Em’s smile that emerged. “Just a regular suit, or a tuxedo?”

“Is there a difference?” Virgil asked.

The woman chuckled. “It’s subtle, but yeah. Most guys go for tuxes with colored vests and ties, though. That’s our most popular prom choice.”

The two spent a while looking through the catalogue for colors and patterns, and eventually were able to decide. They both had plain black tuxedo jackets and pants, but chose different accent colors. Em picked a classy medium grey vest and a sky blue bow tie, while Virgil chose a dark blue vest and bow tie set, and planned to wear them with a black button up instead of a classic white.

“Now, let’s get you up on the stools to get your measurements.”

The woman directed them toward the mirrored area, and another salesman approached so that both boys’ measurements could be taken at the same time. They stepped up onto side-by-side stools, and Virgil sent a reassuring look to Em, who was trying to keep his breath even. The salesman smiled politely and introduced himself as Chris. Em glanced quickly at Virgil, who was calmly listening to the woman’s instructions on how to stand and what to do with his arms.

Chris started his measurements from the top, taking the tape measure and lightly wrapping it around Em’s neck, where his collar would sit. Then, he worked his way down to the width of Em’s shoulders and his sleeve length. All too soon, it was time to get his chest measured, and Em tried desperately to not let the panic he felt show up in his demeanor. He was terrified that Chris would somehow know what he was concealing beneath his clothes, and turn him away or call him names. As the held his arms to the sides, he bit his lip and looked at the ceiling.

The tape measure paused. Then it slid down to his waist. Em looked at Chris, who had simply written the correct number on a piece of paper without a second though. No questions asked. Virgil gave a soft chuckle, and when Em caught his gaze in the mirror, Virgil gave him a look that plainly said, _“Now, was that so bad?”_

Em rolled his eyes in response. He was still nervous, but considerably less so now that neither employee seemed to have a clue that he was trans. When both boys had all of their measurements taken, they stepped down from the pedestals.

“All done!” the woman said cheerfully. “We’ll just need a deposit of twenty dollars each, and then you can pick them up two days before prom.”

“That’s it?” Em asked.

“That’s it. Makes it nice and simple. You’ll need to bring them back in the day after prom, though, so don’t party too hard that night,” she said with a wink. “But other than that, you’re good to go.”

The two paid their deposits and thanked her for her help. Em made sure to put a reminder in his phone to come pick up the suits, because there was no way he was trusting Virgil to remember. As they left the store, Virgil playfully bumped into Em, knocking him off balance and making him stumble.

“Not as bad as you thought it would be, right?” he asked.

Em shook his head. “Not nearly as bad.”

* * *

Prom was getting closer and closer, and Em still wasn’t able to find a name. He and Virgil kept searching, and he kept trying names on for size, but nothing felt right. Other than that, things were going well, though. He started to wear his binder to school, and whenever people asked about it, he just said it was a really good sports bra. Of course, that led to Daisy and Frieda pestering him about where he got it and what brand it was, but he managed to avoid telling them the truth.

Em also began to pick up a few more shifts at the coffee shop to get some spending money. He had used up a fair amount of his last few paychecks on his binder and packer, and knew he was going to spend even more on the tux when he picked it up. He didn’t dare ask his parents for money, afraid that they would disapprove. They still hadn’t gotten a clue, and that was how Em wanted it to stay.

At work, he had begun to listen to customers’ names in a new way. He absorbed each name, analyzing it and whispering it under his breath as he made the drinks. Perhaps one would end up being his name. At the end of each shift, he’d write down the ones that had sparked some interest in him.

When the time came to pick up their tuxes, Em and Virgil showed up at the store and Chris welcomed them. He retrieved their suits from the back room and had them try on a few pieces to make sure they fit. For simplicity’s sake, the boys slipped the vests and jackets on over their t-shirts, and once they were deemed properly fitted, they walked out of the store, garment bags in hand.

On the way home, Virgil seemed quiet as he drove, which definitely got Em’s attention, since Virgil was rarely quiet. “Something’s on your mind,” Em stated.

“I think you should tell Pops and Sharon.”

Em raised an eyebrow. “This is out of the blue. Why?”

Virgil shrugged, keeping his gaze on the road ahead of him. “It’ll be good practice. Day after tomorrow, you’re going to have a lot of people asking you questions. Might as well do a trial run.”

“I thought you were my trial run.”

“Okay, well a second trial run. Besides, my family loves you no matter what.” He glanced at Em. “Plus, Sharon keeps asking what’s going on.”

Em rolled his eyes jokingly. “Ah, so there’s the ulterior motive. You wanna get Sharon off your back.”

“No,” Virgil insisted. “I don’t care if she’s on my back. But she does seem worried. I don’t know what’s running through her head, but it might put her mind at ease to know that you’re not, like, suicidal or doing drugs or something.”

“Sharon thinks I’m doing drugs? What the hell!”

“Just spitballing here! Who knows what she thinks. She’s just worried about you.”

Em sighed and pushed his glasses up to rub at his eyes. “All right. You’re right, I do need the practice. And they deserve to know.”

* * *

That night, the four were seated around the table eating dinner. Well, the Hawkins were eating dinner, while Em was just pushing his food around his plate, too nervous to actually eat anything. Unfortunately, his behavior was quickly noticed by Robert.

“Is everything all right, Emily?” Mr. Hawkins asked. “You’ve hardly touched your food when normally you’d be on your second plate by now.”

“I’m fine,” Em said softly. He flinched, however, when Virgil kicked him under the table. He took a deep breath. “Actually, there was something I wanted to tell you,” he said, eyes focused on his plate. He tried to keep his hands from shaking, but it wasn’t working very well. “I’m…” His voice caught in his throat, and he glanced at Virgil for support.

“It’s okay, Em,” Virgil said quietly, reaching over to put a reassuring hand on Em’s shoulder.

Another deep breath, and Em decided to just blurt it out. “I’m transgender,” he said, quickly looking at both Robert and Sharon before returning his gaze to his uneaten food. “I’m a boy, and I want to be called a boy and to have male pronouns and everything.” He looked up, and was relieved to see smiles around the table. “I haven’t picked a name yet,” he continued, “But Virgil’s been calling me Em.”

“Thank you for telling us, Em,” Robert said sincerely. “I’m glad that you feel safe in this house, and I promise that I will do everything to keep it that way, son.”

Em’s breath caught in his throat and his vision swam with tears. Virgil reached over and gently took his hand, which Em squeezed lightly as the tears spilled over. “Thank you,” he wavered, “You guys are the only ones who know, and I was so scared…”

Sharon shook her head. “You never need to be scared in our house, Em. We love you.”

Em squeezed Virgil’s hand and smiled. “I love you guys, too.”

* * *

At long last, the day of prom had arrived. The two boys still hadn’t found a permanent name, but Em was fine with keeping his nickname for now. It had been easy to make up an excuse to spend the night at Virgil’s house. He spent so much time there anyway that his parents no longer questioned it. When he arrived at the Hawkins’, Virgil was already upstairs getting dressed, and Robert and Sharon were excitedly sitting in the living room.

Sharon jumped up upon Em’s entrance. “You’re here!” She gave him a big hug before tugging him upstairs. “Virgil’s in his room, but you can use mine,” she insisted. “I already brought your tux in here and there’s a full-length mirror on the back of the door. I didn’t know what you’d want to do with your hair, but here’s a brush and some hairspray and I can see if we have gel if you need it and–”

Em laughed and held up his hands to stop her. “It’s all right, Sharon,” he said. “Spray is fine. I’m not gonna do much with it anyway.”

She gave him another big hug and bounced up and down a bit. “I’m just so excited! My two little brothers are going to prom!”

Eventually, Em was able to pry himself away from Sharon’s grip and get her out of the room so he could change. He stripped down to his underwear, and couldn’t help but take a glance in the mirror.

It still wasn’t perfect. He hated having to wear a binder, but also loved it at the same time. There was a red line around his hips from where his packer harness dug into his skin. His body was far from what he wanted it to be. There were curves when there should be angles, and delicate features where there should be rough. But it would have to do. At least for a while.

He tore his gaze from the mirror and began to get dressed. He was eternally grateful that the bow tie came pre-tied, to save him the embarrassment of asking for help. The clothes didn’t fit perfectly, but Em expected that and wasn’t disappointed. He knew that the shirt wouldn’t button around his hips, or that his shoulders wouldn’t quite fill out the jacket. But he felt good, and that’s what mattered.

When he was dressed, he took another look in the mirror and smiled at the sight before him. His body may not be quite what it should be, but damn could he rock a tuxedo. He ran a hand through his hair, not really caring what it looked like. The short haircut was easy to maintain and didn’t take much effort to make it look nice. A puff or two of hairspray to seal the deal, and Em was finally ready.

He opened the door and walked to the top of the stairs, where he looked down to see Virgil and his family standing at the bottom. Em rolled his eyes at how cliché it was, but Sharon clapped enthusiastically and Robert was beaming. Virgil stood at the foot of the stairs, one hand in his jacket pocket, with the corners of his mouth turning up into an involuntary smile.

As Em walked down the stairs, he could hardly contain his happiness. Here he was, going to prom with his best friend, who accepted him for who he really was. When he reached the last step, he jokingly ran his eyes up and down Virgil’s outfit.

“Looking good there, V-man,” he said with a wink.

Virgil chuckled. “Not as good as you, dude. It suits you.”

“Better than a dress?”

“Much.”

* * *

They were almost late to prom. Well, later than they had planned. Virgil had insisted on arriving “fashionably late,” so that Em could get his grand entrance. It was nerve-wracking, but Em thought it might be fun. Maybe. But now that Robert and Sharon had held them up with photos and excited chatter, Em was starting to get anxious.

“Virgil,” he whined. “What if they laugh at me? What if it just crashes and burns?”

“They’re not gonna laugh at you,” Virgil said, quickly glancing at Em before returning his eyes to the road in front of him.

“But how do you know?”

Virgil shrugged. “Honestly, I don’t. But I’ve got a hunch, all right?”

Em huffed and looked out the window, where he watched as they pulled into the parking lot at the Center, where the event was being hosted. It wasn’t the most formal venue ever, but the prom committee had stepped up their game and a red carpet led from the curb inside the front doors. Virgil parked the car and the two got out and made their way towards the entrance.

This was it. The big moment. Em felt his breath catch in his throat as he reached for Virgil’s hand for support. They looked at each other for a moment, and Virgil squeezed Em’s hand, giving him courage.

“All right,” Em said. “Let’s do this.”

Together, they reached forward and pushed the doors open to reveal the dance hall. The lights were dim, and Em was barely able to register the tables lining the walls or the DJ booth on the opposite end of the huge room. His head was spinning as he tried to remain cool on the outside. His focus snapped back to attention when Virgil gently tugged at his hand, pulling him forward and out of the shadows.

They were standing at the top of a small set of stairs that led from the entryway to the dance floor. As the door slammed behind them, Em realized that Virgil had been right. The handful of students dancing were too busy to pay attention, but the rest of the senior class glanced up to see who had shown up so late. Em felt eyes boring into him from every direction, and he tightened his grip on Virgil’s hand.

“You okay, dude?” Virgil asked. “We can always jet and go see a movie or something.”

Em took a deep breath. “No, I’m okay.”

The two took the few stairs to the dance floor, where they were immediately swamped by Daisy and Frieda.

“Emily!” cried Frieda, who threw her arms around Em in a big hug. “You look gorgeous! What a way to push the envelope! I haven’t seen a single girl here in anything other than a dress, but geez louise do you look amazing!”

Em gently nudged her away and brought his free hand up to run a hand through his hair. “Um, actually, Frieda, there’s kind of a reason why I wore this instead of a dress.” He gave a small smile. “I’m not a girl. I’m a boy. And I want everyone to know that.”

There was a split second of stunned silence between the four friends before Daisy rushed forward to give Em a hug of her own. “I’m proud of you,” she said softly, pulling away afterwards. “That takes a lot of guts.”

Frieda was still standing there, stunned. “Wow, um, Emily,” she said. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m happy for you, but man, was that out of left field.”

Daisy gently swatted her shoulder. “Come on, Frieda, I bet he doesn’t want to be called that anymore. And you seriously had no inkling of it lately? The way he’s been acting wasn’t strange to you at all?” Daisy scoffed and turned back to the boys. “Do you want us to use a different name?”

“We’ve been calling me Em,” he said, gesturing to Virgil. “For now, until I find a more permanent name. And definitely male pronouns.”

Daisy smiled and laced her fingers with Frieda’s. “We’re glad for you, Em,” she said sincerely.

“We really are,” Frieda added. “And I mean what I said, about the suit. It looks amazing.”

* * *

Throughout the night, Em was approached by a number of people who asked about his outfit choice. He told all of them the truth, and nearly everyone was supportive. The few who weren’t, simply walked away, which Em could handle. No one had gotten angry or upset. At least not yet.

Virgil could tell that Em was still nervous, even after they had gotten some food and punch and picked a table. After a while, Virgil stood and held out his hand. “May I have this dance,” he asked with a corny accent. Em laughed and took his hand, and together they went to the dance floor. The DJ was mostly sticking to the top 40s, so everyone knew the songs and was singing along as they danced in the packed area. Virgil and Em joined in, both glad that they had checked their coats, otherwise they would have been drenched in sweat.

Em was having the time of his life. His cheeks hurt from smiling, and his sides hurt from laughing and dancing. Eventually, he grabbed Virgil’s hand and pulled them away from the crowd. They were both out of breath, but smiling.

“Sorry,” Em said, taking a few deep breaths. “Binder’s restricting my breathing. Gotta take a minute.”

“Shit, I forgot about that,” Virgil admitted. “And I thought I was getting winded. Can’t imagine dancing with a binder on.”

Em shook his head. “Nah, it’s no big deal. Just trying to be careful, you know?” They stood for a few minutes on the outskirts of the crowd, making jokes and listening to the upbeat music.

“All right now, everyone,” the DJ turned down the music and spoke into a microphone. “I know you guys are having lots of fun dancing up a storm right here, but we’ve gotta get in at least one slow one, am I right? So grab your date and get ‘em on their feet. We’re gonna take it nice and easy with this one.”

The music slowly faded back up, and dozens of heads perked up as they recognized the first notes of “I Won’t Give Up.” Em held out his hand to Virgil and simply asked, “May I?”

With a smile, Virgil nodded. They moved a little closer to the crowd of high schoolers who were quickly pairing off and dancing together. Em took a small step forward and lifted his hands, but hesitated, not knowing where to put them.

“Here,” Virgil said, taking Em’s hands and placing them on Virgil’s waist. “You’re taller,” he explained, putting his own arms up on Em’s shoulders. “By like, an inch, but still.”

They began to slowly sway back and forth, and Em chuckled. “Jealous, shorty?”

“Haha, very funny.” Virgil rolled his eyes.

“Just be grateful that I won’t get any taller when I start hormones,” Em said. “No more growing for me.”

Virgil sighed in relief. “Wonderful. I don’t think I could handle craning my neck to look up at you.” They were quiet for a moment, content with listening to the song. “So, I found a few more names to try,” Virgil said.

“Really? Sweet! What are they?”

 “Okay, so what about Michael?”

Em shrugged. “I’ve got an old friend with that name. Feels kind of weird to take his.”

“Reasonable. How about Jude?”

“I like that one,” Em said. “Jude.” He rolled it around in his mouth, getting a feel for the name.

Virgil smiled. “I thought you might. It’s a good one.”

“Give me a few sentences,” Em requested.

“My best friend happens to be a Mr. Jude Foley, and we’ve known each other since second grade,” Virgil rambled, trying to give the name a quick test drive. “Jude and I met in Ms. Fieldman’s class on the first day of school. I kept making Jude laugh, which ended up getting him moved to the other side of the room. Jude and I have been friends ever since.”

Em nodded. “Yeah, that’s a good one. What else do you got?”

“Just one more,” Virgil said. “Richie.”

Em felt a warmth spread from head to toe, and a tingle started in his scalp. His vision swam before him, and he worried that he was going to faint. He thought his ears were ringing, but it could have just been the music that was still playing. It took him a minute to realize that he and Virgil had stopped swaying to the beat, but were instead standing still, staring at each other with identical expressions of surprise. Em couldn’t seem to tear his gaze from Virgil, and he felt his pulse racing. It took him a second to realize what had happened, but when he did, he couldn’t help but slowly shake his head in disbelief.

“Virgil?” he asked.

Virgil’s mouth was hanging open and his eyes were wide. “Did we just…” He let his hands slip down Em’s arms until they found his hands, and they both intertwined their fingers. “Did you feel that? That pull?”

Em nodded, focusing on the feel of Virgil’s hands in his to keep him grounded. “Yeah, I felt it. Then that means…” he trailed off.

Virgil gave a small sigh of amazement, his face lighting up. “I think it means we found your name.”

Richie slowly smiled. “I think it means we found a lot more than my name.”

The song continued to play in the background, and the rest of their classmates continued to dance, oblivious to the two boys who had just found their soulmate. Virgil and Richie shared a final moment of wonder before Virgil gave a small shrug and stepped forward to wrap his arms around Richie’s neck. They slowly began to sway back and forth again, and Virgil began to chuckle.

“What?” Richie asked.

Virgil shook his head. “All this time. I had a crush on you for ages, but I didn’t think we were soulmates, so I didn’t bother.”

Richie rolled his eyes. “Why am I not surprised. There’s more to life than soulmates, you know. I’ve always had a crush on you, dude, but I thought you were into Daisy, so I didn’t want to try anything. Plus, you know, the whole fact that I wanted to be your boyfriend, not your girlfriend.”

“Well, looks like you get your wish,” Virgil teased. “I mean, if you want to pursue this. I know you were never really about the whole soulmate thing, so if you just want to stay friends, I’d understand.”

“Virgil, that is the last thing I want,” Richie said. “I don’t know what will come of this – whether we’ll be together forever or what – but I do know that I’m glad it’s you.”

Virgil locked eyes with Richie and smiled. “Okay, this is gonna sound out of the blue,” he said, “but can I kiss you?”

Richie answered by reaching up to cup Virgil’s jaw and leaning forward. When their lips met, Richie’s eyes fluttered shut behind his glasses and he felt Virgil’s arms pulling him closer. They pulled apart after a few seconds, leaving their foreheads pressed together.

“By the way,” Richie said softly. “The name is perfect.”


End file.
